All Across the Land
by Fiallah
Summary: For once Cicero felt selfish, the Listener belonged to him and only him. No harlot can just come into his life and steal what restored the reason for his existence. It didn't matter how long he might have to search, he'll find them, he'll find them and get back what belongs to him, even at the cost of his Listener's affection. Rated M for gore and rape


So, yeah...

* * *

Cicero saw the gleam in the Listener's eyes when he saw Serana tremble from her thousand year long slumber, his gentle touch when he caught her before she fell to the floor. How he complimented her fighting ability while Cicero took out the draurg deathlord all on his own.

Funny how he didn't think anything about it.

But now he thought about it endlessly, he thought about them, his Listener and what he could remember of her face. What could they be doing right now that doesn't involve Cicero? Probably climbing up a mountain to slay a dragon much like they would do. I bet he had to give her a stronger weapon. Bah! Cicero could take on that dragon all own his own with only the worn dagger he used and still have enough energy to take on a giant before it could send him into orbit.

It consumed him, he was the one who gave him hope, that he still had something to live for, that he didn't devote his life to the Nightmother, to Sithis for nothing. He devoted his life to the Listener, to him... J'Keir. And when he laid eyes on that harlot it all changed. She told him to send him away, that he should go back before they proceed into the wreck of Harkon castle. Instead of feeling insulted about how quick he was to obey her and tell him to go back to the sanctuary, he was thinking about all the things they killed, more so for his beloved Listener.

It was painful, because since then, the Listener hasn't been back. Has it been days? Weeks, perhaps a whole year passed since he saw the cat. His heart ached, the painful nostalgia of when the only thing he could call a family crumble down. He felt the one person he would gladly die for leave him, leave poor Cicero for some pretty thing. The feeling was to familiar, only a girl was involved.

He was the one who gave him hope, the one thing he'd die for, the one thing he'd keep to himself. For once Cicero felt selfish, because he wanted him to himself, Sithis holds them both, but Cicero knew that J'Kier belonged to him, and thinking that _she_ can take him?

It was maddening.

He knew the only solution was the one that was constantly in his mind, death. Without her around, the Listener would have no choice but to come back to him. It'll be like old times.

But the problem is him getting to close.

He still talked to the Nightmother like he would, just because she could speak to him doesn't mean she couldn't hear him. "Nightmother, it'd be wrong for the Listener to just leave you for reasons other than death? Right?"

As he rubbed the oil covered rag across the centuries old corpse, he took time into this because it was long overdue, the Listener would keep him for weeks on end without dismissing him, now it was weeks without him. She was silent in response, something that he expected at this point, but he could tell she agreed with him. "Cicero doesn't want to leave this place for long, who else would make sure you're happy?"

Cicero was the only one fit to touch the corpse of the Holy Matron of the Dark brotherhood, he hated the idea of leaving the sanctuary for long, but the he remembered how long he and the Listener would go out on adventures, slay dragons and eat cheese with the Mad god himself, he could feel the Night Mother smile down upon them, her loyal subjects bring the Dark Brotherhood to their former glory. "But if the Listener was to leave because of that woman, it'd be quite foolish." Once again he could feel the warmth of the Nightmothers agreement shine down upon him, he closest thing to answer he'd get, even if it was a feeling that he thought he'd felt.

"Cicero will find them, I'll get my Listener back." He would normally say 'our', but it wasn't the case anymore. He was obsessed with him ever since learning about the new Listener, but now it's grown to something bigger than it should be. Sithis didn't have anything to do with making sure the Listener would leave, for once Cicero knew what it felt like to be selfish. And for some reason he enjoyed it... and he was thankful that cat came into his life. He _needed _him, without him, they'd be nothing, the Brotherhood would be nothing, Cicero would be nothing.

He let out a shaky sigh as he carefully lifted the Nightmother up, her corpse gleamed with the preserving oil Cicero affectionately bathed her with as he grunted in effort not to jar the fragile cadaver. He laid her back into the coffin, her head tilted to the side as she stood upright, her mouth hung open as he empty eye sockets stared at Cicero, almost as if she was looking through him. "Cicero will get his Listener back, Cicero promises that." Cicero planted a kiss on the Nightmothers forehead, another way of promising he won't be gone for long, he felt the thick embalming fluid rub against his lips and brush against the hardened crust of the corpse and he quickly pulled away and proceeded down into the master bedroom.

* * *

He really had no clue where they were, they could be anywhere within the nine holds. Or maybe they were out in the wilderness, in a cave, or in a bandit camp. The journey to find his Listener could be a long one, Cicero knew of this, traveling like a Khajiit caravan, and it made sence, considering he was a Khajiit. But now wasn't the time for jokes, Cicero was serious this time, he wanted to stay hidden, so he changed out of his jesture outfit and changed into a well adorned gentleman, wearing the clothes J'Keir left in the chest at the foot of his unused bed.

"And they still smell like the Listener." Of course the smell was of booze, blood and wet cat, but it was his scent nonetheless. Cicero sighed at the smell of him before he quickly threw them on, being exposed in the underground sanctuary wasn't pleasant, and soon enough he was dressed and on his way out of the sanctuary, but on his way out he happened to pass by Babette who quickly drew her knife and pointed at him. Thankfully his voice was enough to show her that it was him, but this was probably a good thing, it assured Cicero that even up close he won't be recognizable. He wore that hat all day everyday that he doubts even the Listener knew what his hair looked like, at some points even Cicero forgot.

Out the door of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary, and into the vast land of Skyrim. No matter how big it may be, it wasn't big enough for the harlot to hide from Cicero's wrath. He'll find them eventually...


End file.
